


Chrysalis

by blackhairedjaemin



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Spirited Away, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Fluff, Heavy Angst, M/M, Minor Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Mark Lee, Minor Park Jisung/Zhong Chen Le
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2020-11-10
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:27:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27356479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackhairedjaemin/pseuds/blackhairedjaemin
Summary: He cried, then. Where was Jisung? Was he gone already, swallowed by air and turned into oblivion? He promised his mother he would take care of him, even on their last day.
Relationships: Huang Ren Jun/Na Jaemin
Comments: 9
Kudos: 33
Collections: '00 FIC FEST ROUND TWO





	Chrysalis

**Author's Note:**

> This is my submission for '00 fic fest round two! My prompt was #00243 :)
> 
> I feel like the fic ended up being a lot different from the original prompt as I wrote, but I tried to do it justice to the original masterpiece by Miyazaki, so it probably resembles the film moreso than the prompt. Sorry prompter! I got carried away with this 15k beast but I hope it you enjoy it nonetheless.
> 
> Thank you to my beta who always gave it to me straight, your critique was honestly wonderful.

Renjun’s goodbye cards got stuffed into his suitcase and he thought that there was nothing scarier than growing up. They were crushed under his layers of clothes as he covered them, not possessing the will to stare too long, as the words would make him cry and Renjun was always best when feigning strength. Jisung, however, is not.

“You’re really— you’re really leaving. This is your last day. Don’t go Renjun, don’t—  _ please don’t leave me _ .” He cried as thick tears fell from his lashes and wet his face. Renjun turned around to face the weeping boy, a task much harder than he anticipated, trying to be a pillar of strength for him despite his heart being torn like paper. He heard the ripping sound clearly in his mind, and his ribcage struggled with the weight of carrying its two halves. Renjun gathered Jisung into his embrace, letting him cry against his shirt, a damp patch building there, the younger's shaking body so heavy in his grasp like lead.

“I know, I know. I don’t want to leave either Jisung… I really don’t.” He whispered this like a false promise into the thistledown of Jisung’s hair, it brushing harshly against his skin. 

This is their last day. From when Jisung was a plump baby, stuffed like a teddy bear on Renjun’s small lap, they had been on an annual holiday to the very home they were bunched in now. Fourteen years of history absorbed by the walls, the rural Japanese architecture soaking it up greedily; every yell, every tear, every laugh, everything, memories stacked upon each other like dirty dishes, waiting to be picked through and cleaned with nostalgia.

Renjun was never to return here for an escape. He had been accepted into a prestigious art program at a senior secondary in Seoul and would have too much work to be able to holiday in the summer. Leaving Jisung to come here, alone, for the next two years before he met the same fate. They had been inseparable, but the sands of time blow them by their feet until they stand, on opposite sides of a vast ocean. 

Renjun’s eyes stung, tears battling with his waterline as he sniffled pathetically, Jisung still shaking in his grip. His mother called out to them.

“Sungie, baby, come collect your vitamins before lunch! We’ll eat and then leave for the airport, okay?” She shouted. Jisung replied with a weak affirmative before pulling off Renjun's, now wet, shoulder. Renjun offered him a quivering smile.

“Stupid vitamins.” Jisung muttered. Renjun chuckled.

“I’m pretty sure they’re just laxatives, I don’t know why she keeps buying them.” He laughed, Jisung offering a sigh of relief for always flushing them down the toilet. He rubbed his sleeve into his sniffling nose and composed himself; some mirth and mischief returned to his eyes, despite their redness, as he met Renjun’s.

“If we never show up for lunch then we can never leave, right?”

“I like your thinking, Sung.” 

They barreled into the kitchen, some excuse of playing in the garden until lunch. Jisung’s mother doesn’t let Renjun leave without shoving the “vitamins” into his hand, making him promise to make Jisung take some. He does, and then runs outside, Jisung’s calls shaking the very leaves of the forest.

They disappeared into its vast wilderness, the unshakeable mass of vegetation rolling past their thundering feat like waves. Branches, leaves, trunks, bark - all disappearing into a swirling blur. Their feet drove them deeper, deeper into mystical woods, civilisation seemed an abstract idea, lost to their youthful shouts and hoots and the earth beneath them. Renjun felt his temple perspire with sweat, his breathing ragged from exertion but his energy seemed to come from the air itself, endlessly. Jisung craned his neck behind him, smiling and shouting all at once, daring Renjun to try and catch up to him - the race began. Before he smashed crotch-first into a boulder.

Renjun slowed to stop and doubled over with laughter. The younger was curled into a ball on the floor, hands clutched around his front and tears prickling in his eyes. Renjun found himself grateful for his genealogy for once and confounded Jisung’s lanky physique, if it had been him he would have only bashed his stomach.

“That’s what you get! I can’t believe you Jisung, seriously, you must be trying to be  _ this _ clumsy at this point.”

“Believe me,” he huffed. “I’m not trying.”

Renjun turned his attention away from his unfortunate friend and to the offending boulder. Upon closer inspection he found it wasn’t a boulder at all, but a statue of sorts. It was half sunken into the earth and wholly swallowed by luscious moss but its carving could still be discerned. It seemed to depict a humanoid creature, with a large smile and hands clasped together, as if in prayer or welcome. Renjun strolled its entire circumference and found that the same creature was portrayed on its reverse. Same eerie smile and clasped hands.

“You ever seen this before, Sung?” He queried.

“No, but we’re enemies now,” He stated with wary eyes. “It’s creepy.”

Renjun ignored him and continued to inspect it. They had traversed this forest many times, perhaps deeper than this, but he had never seen a statue like it. He scanned the treeline, and noticed another statue, rising from the dirt as if in invitation. His curiosity consumed him, and he started without explanation to his dismayed partner. 

Jisung shouted to him with questions, hesitant to follow, before looking back to his offender and deciding he was safer with Renjun. The second statue was the same as the first, and so was the third and the fourth, all in varying degrees of digestion from the devouring nature around them. They beckoned Renjun towards the inscrutable forest depths, welcoming him with clasped hands and smiling faces. It was the fifth, that sated Renjun’s curiosity somewhat.

The forest opened into a clearing as a stark red building rose from its gluttonous jaws. It was an archway, in its own level of decay. Situated in front was another, identical statue, smiling with glee and dressed in moss. It rested at the end of what used to be a countryside road, now matted with short, stubby grasses and foliage; this structure was entirely unfathomable. All of Renjun’s senses seem to fizzle with the unknown power that this entryway hummed with, the wind whistling through the trees and into the black, impenetrable tunnel that carved out the building's stomach. 

“Renjun, I don’t like this.” They moved to stand in front of it, Jisung too focused on the statue behind them, as if it would rise from the earth and grab him. Renjun peered into the darkness and saw shards of light illuminate a room within. His nerves sparked.

“Let’s check it out.”

“Renjun, seriously, I don’t think this is a good idea.” Jisung's scared voice seemed to snap him out of his trance. He looked down at the boy clutched onto his elbow, who now appeared small despite his long limbs and muscles. Jisung was right, they shouldn’t be entering into any dark archways without their parents knowing — Renjun was only just on the right side of sixteen and Jisung was two years younger. He was right, but Renjun couldn’t face the crumpled goodbye cards stuffed into his suitcase and the car that was parked on the drive, awaiting its passengers to return to  _ home _ . Home wasn’t in Korea, where his friends were all somewhere else and a school he didn’t know was beckoning him with bony fingers, the other hand holding stacks of essays and tests. Home was right here, Jisung by his side and the wilderness enveloping them in its warm and endless embrace. 

“It won’t take long, promise,” He purred. “Just a quick look.”

Jisung seemed hesitant but ever guided by his older companion. The breeze curled round their ankles and dragged them towards its gaping mouth. Renjun let himself be pulled.

The inside was barren. Benches lay orderly towards their left and pillars sprouted from the ground, lamps blooming around their circumference. An old fountain, presumably, dripped water into a puddle at its base at the centre of the room. A train could be heard faintly in the silence. It wasn’t this, though, that interested Renjun. What made him quicken his step was the golden luminescence that poured from a large arch in front of them and the scene beyond it. 

They walked into the light. Stretched before them were brilliant rolling grasslands, seemingly boundless in size, the breeze caressing each blade of grass as they swept across the landscape like waves. Houses drowned in the green ocean, half inhaled by the infinite meadow; their roofs becoming small islands, draped in moss. The statues were there too, smiling in mirth as they bathed in the sun and soil. A path led up to some buildings a distance away, like a parting in the emerald sea.

“Woah.” Was all Jisung managed.

“Yeah… woah,” Renjun responded.

Jisung was less daunted at this point, the stretching wild seemingly familiar and unknowable at the same time. Renjun carried his slow pace up the path while Jisung bounced among the grasses; he climbed atop a buried house and looked out into wide pasture, like a captain of his own ship. The field dipped into a small river, littered with large, smooth boulders as a mode of crossing. Jisung’s long legs meant he bounded across freely, while Renjun shakily tried not to fall in the waters, almost crawling across them. The river’s culprit was a curious frog statue; water dribbled from its yawning lips and down the broken steps, grasses penetrating the stone. 

“Renjun look at this place! What do you think it is? Why would they just leave this out here?” Jisung’s questions fell out his mouth unfettered.

“It might be one of those abandoned theme parks, you know? We learnt about this in history, I think, they left them all after the recession… or something.” 

The stores enveloping the street were like children's building blocks, coming in different shapes, colours, and sizes. They seemed warped and contorted in varying twisting frames, signs adorned them in jumbles of letters, all japanese, even with Renjun’s confident grasp on the language, the confusing typography made them look more like cryptic runes than actual letters. The street winded like the body of a snake, steps taking them further upwards and into the supposed “theme park”, striped, round lanterns drawn between the rooftops and around the entryways. A statue of an agape frogs mouth arose from the cobble.

“All these are restaurants! Doesn’t look like any are open…” A grand idea seemed to strike Jisung in this moment, as he turned sharply with mischief painted on his features.

“Hey, why don’t we play hide and seek in all these abandoned buildings, you count to ten, and I’ll hide!” 

Renjun simply smiled fondly in response, pleased to see Jisung this happy on his last day - he couldn’t deny him anything. He started to count, loud and drawn out. Jisung, squealed mouse-ish and scrambled off to the side while Renjun continued his pace down the street, dragging out each number in a long sigh. He was upon the decimals (zero-point-five… zero-point-four-five…) by the time he was in front of a large red lamp, different from the others - it was more ornate. Pasted on the rice paper was the name ‘Oil Store’ in japanese lettering. When Renjun turned to his right he saw it.

An immense building towered over him. Complex and extravagant, connected by a red fenced bridge several meters long. It had green slanted roofing, adorned generously with gold accents and intricacies. Windows seemed to jut out of the structure randomly, red wood meeting its starker brick in complementing bursts of colour as it rose, up and further up still. Each floor seemingly stacked upon the next in a beautiful clash of layered detail. The sun illuminated each edge and corner of the building, shadows dragging out like moaning ghosts. Steaming water poured from some rocks just visible over the precipice of its garden walls, and the large sign of “Bath House” pronounced itself at the entrance. 

“Woah…” Renjun could only stare on in awe. The familiar rumble of train wheels drew him from his amazement. He jogged onto the bridge and looked over it, where a train appeared from a tunnel and disappeared into another, through the bathhouse island, a severe drop below him. Renjun stayed peering down trying to see if there was any explanation for the spectral tracks - long forgotten, yet still in use. Until he felt a scratching at his hand. Looking up, a brown mouse scraped at his fingers with its tiny claws.

“Ew!” He shrieked, pulling his hand back fast enough to almost knock it off the railing. The mouse teetered on the edge and clung on for dear life, using its hind legs to pull itself back up. Renjun just looked on in disgust at its noisy squeaking and scrambling.

He moved away from the tiny creature and stared out across the horizon. The grasses really were like a sea; they reached all the way beyond the horizon. Where were all the village houses? The forest? Strange. The day was drawing to a close and he had yet to find Jisung.

Then... footsteps. He turned.

_ Beautiful _ . Long eyelashes framed under beautiful cerulean strands of hair. Though, as quickly as Renjun could take note of its vibrancy, it changed. Blooming from his scalp a white, the colour of daisy petals, spread through each strand down to his eyes, creased in worry.

“Oh no…” His pretty voice said, deep and earthy, and unusually in Korean, his pronounced adam's apple bobbing. “I had a bad feeling this would happen.” Renjun shook himself out his stupor, beautiful or not, there was clearly something grave occurring. The boy glanced to him and then to the mouse, still squeaking loudly on the wooden railing. The sun was being swallowed by the horizon, their shadows swelling in length; the light created a glow against the boy’s skin as he considered what to do, glancing between him and the rodent with increasing speed, worrying his bottom lip between his cute, front teeth. He seemingly decided, and wrapped the mouse up in his clasped palms. Renjun tried not to be offended. 

He didn’t have to wait long, however, the white-haired boy transformed into one with royal purple locks as he shoved the rodent into his trouser pocket and grabbed Renjun’s hand, tight.

“There may still be time, come on!”

Renjun was dragged, relentlessly, by the boy into the dark streets. The lamps were lit aflame as they dashed, following the thunder of their feet; they appeared like angry red suns, chasing them. Shadows rose from the ground and the storefronts, large masses of black, translucent, with piercing pearl eyes puncturing their ghostly forms. Renjun tried not to scream. He had no idea what was happening, everything moved in a blur of crimson and ebony. 

They finally halted, suddenly, at a mass of water black as pitch. Where had this come from? Mere moments earlier, the ground was covered in beautiful grasses and half-formed structures. Instead, lights danced across the water, blends of beautiful vermilion embers floating on the oil-like sea. They shone from another cluster of buildings that now seemed an impossible distance away, the clock tower they had entered through lit bright as the sun while shimmering boats skimmed the ocean.

“No, no… What to do?  _ What to do? _ ” The beautiful boy lamented, his trouser pocket filled with a squirming and squealing shape.

Renjun’s hand stopped holding the others, for it slipped through his very flesh, as though it were only an illusion. Renjun started panicking then, he looked down at his skin and saw that it had become sheer — he could see the lights on the water through his forearm. He couldn’t stop the worried shouts that came from his mouth, waving his hands in a frenzy, like it was some bug he could shake off. Nothing changed. Renjun was fading.

“ _ We’re running out of time _ . Follow me, quickly!” The boy's words felt like they were coming under throws of water, his voice indistinct. He could not grab Renjun, but petrified by the rising ghosts appearing from the dark depths of the water, he followed. The boy led him to an alley, one lamp illuminating them in warped shadows and harsh buttermilk colour.

“You should be safe here, don’t go anywhere or I can’t protect you, okay?” Renjun simply curled into himself, his phantom body melting into nothingness.

“I need to grab something. I won’t be long.”

And just like that, Renjun was alone. 

He cried, then. Where was Jisung? Was he gone already, swallowed by air and turned into oblivion? He promised his mother he would take care of him, even on their last day. The tears fell through his knees and soaked the concrete below, he could not feel their chill as his face was turning into shadow and saturating his vacant surroundings. The little brown mouse cheeped indignantly beside him. Renjun looked up, satin lashes wet with dewdrop tears. He wasn’t alone, as the teeny animal sniffled sadly by his retreating form.

“ _ Stupid mouse _ .” He sobbed.

The boy returned in the silence and waved berry in front of his face.

“Quick! You have to eat food from here or you’ll disappear.” Renjun felt  _ oh-so-weak _ , and feebly leant forward to take it in his mouth, before the boy shoved his fingers forward and stuffed it behind his teeth. 

“Chew, you have to chew.” He did, and felt strength surge through his veins as flavour burst onto his tongue, chewing the minute berry until he swallowed every last drop. Renjun looked down at himself again, fearful that nothing had changed, but he found his skin was full of colour and life, his hands as opaque as the wall behind them. He gasped a sigh of relief and looked back towards the mysterious boy that had saved him. He was smiling.

“I’m okay.”

“That’s a relief,” he exclaimed. “I’m Min and you are?”

“Renjun… but my friend, he came here with me, Jisung… where is he?” Min looked down toward the mouse that was now scrambling up Renjun’s knees and came to rest in his shirt collar, Renjun too preoccupied staring at him to mind. Min’s hair returned to its cotton-white colour. 

“I’ll explain later, come with me, you’re still not safe yet.” He waved his hands over Renjun’s knees, a small glow appearing over them, ( _ “in the name of the wind and earth within me, unbind him.” _ ) brought Renjun to his feet and shook the alabaster from his hair, beautiful violet filling out the strands.

“You have to get a job from Yubaba, or she’ll turn you into an animal. Let’s go.” Renjun’s mind tried to process everything before he was launched into another sprint, through the back alleys of this strange place. Min was relentless in his pace, seemingly turning endless corners that led to nowhere, yet he navigated it with finesse. A door blocked their immediate path, vengeful blood-red lettering splashed the words ‘No Entry’ in Japanese. 

Min reached his hand forward and the door swung open without him even touching it. 

They continued, unhindered. 

Renjun’s surroundings started to bustle with ghostly life, the mouse clinging to his collarbone. Apparitions were preparing food around him as they tore through kitchens, one after the other. Meats were laid out in an impressive array — pork, beef, venison. Vegetables hung from ceilings and erupted from cabinets. The scents enticed him, so many delicious dishes overwhelming his senses.

They emerged from the organised chaos beside the ‘Oil Store’ lamp. Bizarre beings paraded across the bridge in a vibrant precession of spirits, none were alike — all were distinct in their own ways. Some floated, others waddled, a few crawled.

It was like nothing Renjun had ever seen before, this must be the place where missing children are said to be taken by the gods.

“Okay,” Min breathed. “You have to hold your breath as you cross the bridge or the spell will be broken and they’ll see you,” He whispered into Renjun’s hair. Min reached around his shoulders and tucked the mouse deeper into his shirt collar, so that it was hidden from sight. Renjun was so close to him, he could feel his warm breath fanning across his cheek — he smelt like rose petals and daisies. Renjun dared not turn his head.

Peculiarly large frogs greeted them at the precipice but paid no mind to Renjun. They waved lamps and welcomed guests with warm voices, he was surprised to find that this was the least strange thing that had occurred so far.

“You’ve got this Renjun,” Min affirmed. Renjun saw the edge of the bridge, he took a deep breath and clasped his hand around his nose.

They walked on.

Surrounding them was the precession of spirits, they were almost squished together, Renjun by the handrail (he assumed Min did this on purpose, to not give them away) and Min barely shouldering the Ōtori-Sama next to him. Renjun focused on holding his breath. The fingers around his nostrils were so incredibly tight they almost hurt, but he was more afraid of the consequences if he loosened them, and took a breath. 

They drew closer to the bathhouse, Renjun thanked all the deities for his primary school swimming lessons and the residual resilience his lungs had built — he had yet to feel a burn. Maids greeted them on the other side ( _ “Welcome back, Min!” _ ).  _ So close _ .

They crossed.

“Nice, Renjun. You can breathe now, they shouldn’t be able to see you,” Min murmured. Renjun was hesitant to follow his instruction, but drew in air as they ducked under the entry curtains. Nothing changed. 

“C’mon, we gotta go up.” Min dragged him to an elevator which — embossed in gold — was the word ‘Ground’. He lumped them in it and scanned their surroundings before wrenching down a lever. The elevator lurched into motion.

“Renjun,” he wasted no time seizing Renjun’s wrists and launching into explanation, hair now indigo. “Yubaba's quarters are on the top floor. I can’t go in the elevator with you or she’ll know I’m helping you. When you reach her you  _ have _ to ask her for a job. No matter what she says you  _ must insist _ . She is sworn by oath to give a job to whoever asks but will try to convince you otherwise. Got it?” Renjun blinked blankly.

“What about Jisung? You said you’d explain…”

“I will, I promise, but only when you’re safe,” Min stated. The mouse writhed in his collar. Renjun simply nodded as the doors sweeped open and Min released his wrists, his hair changing to the colour of ice. They exited the elevator in silence.

Awe stunned him as he saw the bathhouse interior. It was more grandiose and more vast than the exterior. The immense room was bathed in a cream haze of steam rising from the baths below. There were generous amounts of them, various kaleidoscopic beings soaking in the mint water, some liquid surging over the top due to overflow. They froliced and danced in the scene below him, an exuberant spectacle that the land of the living could do nothing to replicate. 

Workers flew to-and-fro, cleaning, serving, and washing ever-so-restlessly. Min crossed the bridge above this landscape with not so much as a glance and Renjun couldn’t help but lag in their walk, too engrossed in observing the sight below him. The mouse, too, was peeking from behind his collar, beady eyes starstruck. Renjun tore his eyes away from it and jogged slightly to keep up with Min’s longer legs.

They approached the second elevator, embossed with “Heaven”. Min simply released his grip on Renjun and walked past it as though Renjun didn’t exist. He gulped.  _ This is it, then _ .

Yubaba’s quarters were somehow more gaudy and rich than the lower floors. He was drowned in floral patterns and marble. Colossal vases lined the walls like soldiers and below his feet was a garish rug, no less complex than any of the other adornments filling the room, in the colour of blood. A chandelier hung precariously above him. He met the enormous, ornate doors. Renjun gripped the doorknocker feebly and gave it two pathetic taps.

_ Come in. _

A voice said everywhere at once. The double doors swept aside like gaping jaws to reveal an endless stream of similar doors all pulling aside for Renjun. The light seemed to disappear further into the rooms. Whines from the mouse grounded him as it somewhat squirmed to hide even further within the folds of his clothes.

_ Hurry up. _

Renjun then found the front of his shirt being grabbed by a hand he could not see, eliciting panicked yelps from the mouse. He was dragged at a bruising pace through the halls, his heels brushing the carpet. It was fast enough to blow the strands of his short hair aside. His body was lurched round a corner and through several other doors that seemed to open at their own will, his surroundings whizzing past in a psychedelic blur. Renjun was sure it would never stop until, abruptly, it did and he was flung onto another carpeted floor.

The voice huffed from across the room.

“I simply cannot deal with dilly-dalliers.” Renjun had a moment to collect himself. He lifted his face up from where it was squished against the floor and plucked the mouse from where it had fallen. He then faced Yubaba.

Yubaba appeared as you would expect one to appear whom threatened to turn people into animals. She was a witch, hook-nose and all. She was a woman with an impossibly large head, like it had been distorted and moulded to shape. The aforementioned hook-nose was exaggerated beyond belief, so large it crowded out her blocky face, and the end was almost ridged with small divots.

A wart sat upon her glabella, between two ash-coloured eyes adorned with brassy bright blue eyeshadow, white hair pinned up in a mushroom-like shape. She wore a buttoned up dress in a plain colour and was adorned with jewellery extravagant enough for royalty all the way down to her large hands pointed with blood-red nails. Renjun was Hansel in this gingerbread house and he worried he might be stuffed into the fireplace behind him.

“So,  _ human _ , why are you bothering me?”

Renjun swallowed his childish fear and reminded himself of Min’s reassuring words and soft voice. He summoned as much strength as he could, squaring out his shoulders and straightening his posture.

“I would like to apply for a job!” The japanese felt jumbled on his native chinese tongue before he remembered his manners, “ _ Please _ .”

She seemed bemused by his words and raised one bushy, blonde eyebrow. Then, pushing the papers aside, she launched herself off the desk and swept through the air towards him. Renjun desperately tried not to back down as she pushed her huge nose against his.

“And  _ why _ should I give you a job?” Renjun held his ground.

“I’ll work hard, please, I just want to work!” Strands of her hair seemed to unlatch from where they were pinned and swarm round him like snakes, warm puffs of swamp breath blowing from her nostrils. She stared into his eyes as he glared back, determined. She glanced at the mouse and screeched.

“Damned rodent! Pathetic humans! I should have squished you when I found you, boy!” The mouse fell over itself in fear, rolling from its back onto the floor. Yubaba jerked towards it, stamping her brown loafers hard enough to shake the floor. 

Her words sunk in.

“Boy? The mouse?  _ Wait! _ ” Renjun pounced onto the floor and clamped his hands around the mouse. Yubaba stopped her tantrum. Renjun opened his palms up and took in the quivering mouse.

“Jisung?”

The mouse’s response was immediate. He perked up at the mention of his name and started squealing frantically, spinning in circles upon Renjun’s palms.

“What did she do to you?” Hot tears stung his eyes as he looked pitifully at his younger friend, reduced to nothing more than a ball of fur. He held Jisung with such tenderness, sniffling as he placed a tiny paw on Renjun’s thumb. Renjun turned to Yubaba in rage, “You turned my best friend into a mouse!”

It had the desired effect, moments ago Yubaba was threatening Renjun, but something in his eyes had her staggering back a few steps, fear evident as she stumbled over her words. Renjun started pacing towards her, Jisung’s haughty mouse-expression bearing on her as he perched in his hold.

“Turn him back, _now_ ,” He demanded. Yubaba regained her composure.

“After he was snooping around?  _ Never! _ You humans do nothing but cause mischief and trouble,” She advanced forward and met his eyes. “He deserves to learn a lesson.” Jisung squeaked in objection.

They were facing down, Renjun’s despair fueled rage against Yubaba’s magical prowess. Renjun wasn’t stupid, arguing with her more would only have him in the same position as Jisung, he would be no use to him as a mouse, or worse. He recalled Min’s words.

“Then give me a job, you’re sworn to do so to whoever asks, aren’t you?” He had her beat, her vitriol faded. After several charged seconds, she finally huffed and the tension in the air snapped, like a taut rope. Yubaba said nothing as she waddled over to her desk, flicking her wrist and a pointed finger, causing a paper to squeeze free from a stack and a luxurious, pink feather pen to flit across the room towards him.

“Sign there, please.”

Renjun deposited Jisung back onto his shoulder to grasp the stationary and examined the contract, Yubaba tapping her fingers impatiently in the meantime. Renjun took his sweet time reading the fine print, he struggled with some of the japanese words but understood the general gist of it: it was a slave contract, with little to no wage and only the promise of hard work. He doubted for a moment. Was it really worth it? He could escape, perhaps cause a distraction and run with Jisung, figure everything out for himself.  _ Go where? _ He was in a strange land he’s never experienced before, seemingly endlessly empty and filled with unknown dangers.

Renjun was suffocating, staring at the contract everything seemed to hurtle in all at once. He missed his mother, he missed Jisung, he wanted to go home. Renjun’s eyes became wet and his nose runny. What choice did he have?

He wiped his face with his arm and signed his name.

The contract and pen were immediately stolen from his fingers and floated back in front of Yubaba. She examined it for a moment.

“Huang Renjun… Here…” Renjun watched in desperation as his handwriting was ripped from the paper, chinese symbols peeling right off the page and into Yubaba’s ghastly fingers.

“Your name is mine. You shall now be known as ‘Jun’.”

It was done.

Yubaba called Min, he appeared through the door to Renjun’s right as though he had always been there. Min ignored him completely, hair a cold stone colour as he bowed to the witch. They seemed to exchange words but Renjun didn’t hear anything.

“Human! Introduce yourself!” He looked at Min.

“What is your name?” He asked.

“Jun.” Came the reply.

The rest of the bathhouse teemed with life and energy, extraordinary creatures bustled around to close for the night; this didn’t stop their stares, however, eyeing the dejected boy and his mouse, guarded by Min. They spoke in hushed rumours: ‘ _ What’s a human doing here? _ ’, ‘ _ Ugh! Humans smell disgusting! I hope it doesn’t rub off on our lovely Min. _ ’, ‘ _ Another one? Don’t we have enough humans already?’ _ . Jun heard their laments all the same. Jisung burrowed further into his neck, retreating from their pointed looks. Min was less daunted, but his hair was still arctic. He commanded attention, gathering all the bathhouse inhabitants into a single room, glaring them down. Jun was grateful for his protection, but he preferred the warm Min — the Min who congratulated him on a simple task, his determination evident in the amethyst strands of his hair.

“Listen up! This is Jun and Jisung, Jun has been employed by Yubaba. You will treat him with respect just like anyone else. He’ll be working in the kitchens under my guidance - any objections?” He challenged.

( _ ‘Why is Min defending him so much?’, ‘Can the boy even cook?’, ‘He’s so tiny, he looks like he hasn’t worked a day in his life!’ _ )

“Hey, no way! He’ll stink up all the food, if that rodent doesn’t steal it!” A frog piped up. Jisung quivered against Jun’s collarbone. He wouldn’t usually let anyone hurt his friend like that but Jun was fighting tears, he didn’t have the energy for another battle.

“Ah yes, Reo, like the food you stole from the kitchen last week?” A voice quipped, it sounded familiar almost, the japanese reminding Jun of his own, lilted with Mandarin tone. He looked up - before him was a group of three boys, just like him, laughing at the frog’s expense.

“Thank you Lele, that’s enough. Meeting’s over folks, pack up for the night,” Min ordered, the crowd dispersing.

“Come meet my friends,” He said, a fond smile returning to his expression and streaks of tangerine crowding out the navy. He walked Jun over to the group of boys, a hand splayed against his lower back. Min asked them to introduce themselves.

“I’m Le, most people call me Lele, though. It’ll be nice to have someone else in the kitchen who isn’t a frog, or Min…  _ he gets a little possessive over his domain _ ,” Lele added in an obvious whisper to which Min responded with a loud, overplayed fake laugh. Jun simply nodded and bowed. 

The smaller boy seemed taken aback at his lack of response. The other introductions played out in a similar way. There was Jen, who had a strong jaw and physique, offset by his gentle eyes that bunched up into a tender, puppy-like smile. There was also Hyuck, who was made of soft edges and fire, the embers dancing in his irises with mirth. Jun bowed thrice over the whole encounter, eyes low and sad. Jisung replicated his gestures with a mousy nod of his head and whiskers. They all seemed surprised by his nonchalance and chuckled nervously. Min hurriedly waved them away.

“C’mon, you must be tired, let's get you settled for the night.”

Jen and Hyuck separated to go to their own lodgings, Lele waving enthusiastically at them. Everything seemed to pass by in a haze. Jun was stopped in front of large spruce shelves, the storage taking up the whole wall, while Min rummaged through them, babbling on incessantly — some of it nonsense, some of it real instruction (“You have to wash your apron yourself and tie up your shirt with a tasuki when working, but that’s obvious. Wah... You’re so small I’m not sure any of these will fit. Lele! Where do you keep the smaller work shirts?”); his words tumbled to the floor in a mess of type and sound. Jun stared at it, Hangul symbols disassembling into stripes and dots — everything was indistinct. 

The blur in his vision became hot and sticky, it fell in wet droplets on his gentle cheeks and Jisung scrabbled at his jaw. He crumbled into a crouch with a broken sob, head in hands, trembling, shaking, wishing everything was different. Hating himself for being na ïve, for leading Jisung to this wretched place. He cried.

At some point he was rolled into a futon along with all the other workers, who were asleep. Blankets were hung against the windows to block out the brightness of day, shards of light pierced the darkness of the room and sliced Jun into pieces. He was exhausted, his eyes puffy and red from crying, while they still burned with the effort of trying to expel yet more tears, they would not come and he could not sleep.

Jisung was curled into a ball by his nose, squished against the florid pattern of his pillow. In his teary consciousness, Jun vaguely recalls making him promises. His tiny body shuddered with mournful whines as Jun whispered oaths of home and comfort: that he would work hard, that he would make things right. He wasn’t so sure he believes himself. Jun reaches out a hand and strokes his furry body with only a finger, it was soft and fragile, the light pressure enough to feel his little ribcage undulating with the force of his breathing that was now gentle with slumber. A shuffling stirred him.

Min half sat up in the bedding beside him and patted Jun’s shoulder.

“I know you’re awake, C’mon, follow me to the kitchens,” He whispered. Jun did as he was told, collecting Jisung as the sliding doors of their dorms pulled aside, light flooding a section of the room like the tearing of felt. Lele grumbled in his sleep, shine illuminating his black locks.

The pair traipsed through the bathhouse, barefoot, now a different world under day. Everything was swathed in daylight, no less grand for lack of customers but instead peaceful — the clashing colours painted like a childrens playhouse. Min led Jun down to the kitchens on the ground floor, hair notably violet. He stopped in the middle of the room and faced him, grasping his shoulders.

“You, sit,” He instructed, pushing Jun down onto a wooden bench. “I’m gonna cook you my dumplings, you’re very lucky, not many people get to taste these for free.” He had a mischievous glint in his eyes, and wiggled his brows. Jun nodded. 

Min set to work without delay, rummaging around the various shelves and cupboards with a certain deftness, pulling out herbs and some tender looking pork from an icebox. It was a wonder to watch him cook. Jisung surveyed, entranced, in Jun’s lap, his newly sensitive nose twitching in rapid-fire. Min seemed at home here, chopping up ingredients with fierce focus. 

Jun was a good cook himself and glad he was working in the kitchen instead of elsewhere but Min cooked with such prowess — he turned a simple recipe into art, folding the dough of the dumplings with practiced precision and speed. The aroma from the steamer diffused through the room until Jun found his own mouth salivating with anticipation. When done, Min removed the dumplings in his careful palms, holding them as though they were frail newborns; the plump, steaming goodies were gently placed into a picnic blanket and covered by red silk. He picked up the basket.

“I know a place we can eat, you’ll like it, promise.” Jun found himself being led for the umpteenth time that day, Min’s palm in his own. He also found he didn’t mind. Min directed him across the bridge, where they traversed through some gardens before disappearing into flowers.

_ Oh, how beautiful _ . Jun was reminded of his first moments with Min, the flowers swirling around him, caressing him in an amalgam of bursting colour — like the boy with rainbow locks. A fresh aroma invaded his senses, Jisung perking up from upon his shoulder too, beady eyes closed, relaxed. Min seemed to blend in with the environment, like he belonged among it, leaves parted for him as though commanded by a deity, petals furling open with grace at his passing. It was everything, it was all the shades of lemon, cantaloupe, apple, blush, mulberry, lapis,  _ everything _ . Through the prismatic display, Jun almost believed he saw all those colours in Min’s hair, glimmering.

They emerged, panting from the intoxication of it all.

Perched in front of the flower bushes Min started unloading his feast. The dumplings still steamed despite the cool breeze as he handed one to Jun on an embroidered handkerchief. Jun was hesitant.

“I’m not sure I’m hungry. I don’t think I can eat.”

“Trust me, try some. It’ll give you back your energy, and they’re yummy.”

Jun took it in his hold, Jisung sniffing it fervently on his shoulder, before he took a tentative bite. He hadn’t even gotten to the filling but  _ wow _ , Jun had never tasted anything this delicious before. He took another bite, and another, until he had devoured it all, burn from the filling be damned. Min was right, the pork was succulent and the vegetables a perfect palette match. He found himself craving more. Min handed him another, grinning, hair a bright shade of yellow.

“Told ya.”

Jun just hummed round mouthfuls, cheeks bulging. Jisung whined.

“Don’t worry Sung, I haven’t forgotten you.” Min plucked a tiny, mouse-sized one from his array and placed it in Jisung’s eager paws. He stuffed the whole thing into his mouth at once, until he was a mirror of Jun, cheeks full. Min watched them both with tenderness, eyes softening and a barely concealed smile reaching his cheeks, which were blushed. His hair slowly grew into a shade of peach rose. Jun glanced up and swallowed, pointing to his scalp.

“That’s a nice colour, pink, it suits you,” He commented. Min seemed astonished by this and captured the short strands between his fingers, pulling them over his nose until he could see them, cross-eyed. Jun giggled at the sight.

“Huh, never had this one before…”

“Why does your hair change colours, though? What does it mean?” Jun questioned as Min released his grip on his taffy locks.

“Oh, they’re my emotions, the hair colour reflects my mood. It’s a nightmare to coordinate clothes with...” He was babbling again.

“So, what does pink mean?”

“Well, I haven’t had it before or, at least, I don’t remember having it so… who knows?” His ignorance was well feigned and Jun didn’t question it; he shrugged and reached over to grab him and Jisung another dumpling. Min simply gazed at him in thought.

“Renjun, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Jisung… I would have preferred you found out another way but... I was too late. I’m sorry,” He murmured, the pink freezing back into an ocean blue. Jun froze too, and blinked for a moment.

“...Renjun? That’s my name, isn’t it? How could I forget?”

“That’s how Yubaba traps you. All of us, Jen, Lele, Hyuck, we’ve forgotten our names and can never leave.” He paused.

“Whatever happens Renjun,  _ you mustn't forget your name _ , if you want to save Jisung, you’ll need it.” He states, worry evident. Jun’s eyebrows furrowed.

“So you  _ were _ listening to that conversation! I thought you got there too quick.” Jun accused, Min beamed sheepishly.

“What can I say? I was worried.” The blush returned to his hair. Jun offered him a dumpling. Min shook his head, focusing on Jun, to the soft skin of his cheeks, or the gentle curve of his eyelid, and the strawberry pink of his lips. He blinked out of his trance and glanced at the basket.

“Well, we’re all out, you should try and get some sleep, big day tomorrow!”

So, Jun did. He crashed as soon as his head hit the pillow, Jisung snuggled in the tufts of his hair, and dreamed of nothing.

  
  
  


As the moon devoured the sky, the bathhouse scrambled back to life. The kitchens, especially, were a hive of activity. The frogs coordinated with consonance, moving around each other in the cramped space with no prior communication. Large pots boiled endlessly on the stoves, steam blanketing the room with an aromatic haze, flavours of arabian spice, roasting meat, and caramelised vegetables captivating Jun’s senses. Around these pots, ingredients were squeezed onto the sparse space that the worktop allowed, bottles and garlic skins piling upon the tiles. 

The brown hats of the frogs bounced in waves as they navigated the domain, some chopping with deft hands, others stirring and spicing soups. Min and Lele worked among them, swamped by their larger bodies, but no less useful. Along the edge, stacks and stacks of discarded kitchenware lay waiting to be washed. This was Jun and Jisung’s job.

Jun had felt rather useless at first. He struggled even wearing his work uniform, the beige shirt swamping his small frame. Min noticed. He aided him without a word, soft fingertips grazing Jun’s waist as he tied his sash and then, again, across his shoulders with the tasuki cord. Jun felt the tips of his ears heat, and the breath in his chest become ensnared by the stuttered beat of his heart. 

Later, he was bumped into turning over his name at the registration point, then he was jostled some more descending the steps, finally trying desperately to squish himself against a counter so as not to impede anyone’s movement, only to be blocking a cupboard. Min noticed. 

He decisively put him to work at the sinks, where the tower of unwashed pots and pans lay rusting. Jun holds the suspicion that they are never washed, and the staff simply re-use the same kitchenware. He shudders at the thought. However, Jisung and himself had gotten into a rhythm. Annoyingly adamant that Jisung should make himself useful, he chirped until Jun had found him a job, which, admittedly, was rather helpful. After Jun had soaked and wiped down the utensils, Jisung would use his wiry tail to rid them of spuds, swiping it across the same way car wipers remove rain. The cacophony of the kitchen seemed to ebb into white noise as the pair fell into their task.

He wasn’t absent to Hyuck, though, it was hard to be. He came barrelling down the steps like thunder, yapping with orders from clients and collecting up dishes. This particular time, however, he stopped short a few steps from the floor and surveyed the scene with a particular look on his face. It seemed like he was stuffed full of something and was barely keeping it together to not blurt it out. He finally released the breath he was holding.

“Guys, look!” Jun whipped his head round. Pinched between Hyuck’s thumb and forefinger was a glimmering piece of gold. It was no bigger than a shirt button but still sparkled under the dull lighting of lamps, entrancing all the kitchen’s residents. They all shared a collective gasp. The moment dragged, everything seemed to pause, even the steam rolled across the ceiling with a certain laborious tempo.

Then, an uproar.

A clamouring of bodies, legs, heads, hands erupting from the mass to grab at Hyuck’s arm. He was startled and retreated up the steps, withdrawing the gold above his head, out of the frogs’ reach. Jun even thought he saw Lele between the swell of limbs. What was going on? The gold can’t be that valuable, can it? Jisung let out worried yelps.

“Everyone!  _ Enough! _ ” Min’s voice pierced the discord of the room. Jun flinched. “All gold goes to Yubaba, Hyuck, you know this. Tell me why you have it.” Hyuck blinked, before regaining his composure, a haughtiness present in his raised nose.

“I  _ was _ going to tell you all how to get some, before I was rudely  _ assaulted _ ,” He was met with loud objection. “All right, all right. There’s a loaded guest on the second floor dining rooms, he’s basically generating gold.”

“What’s that got to do with us?” Min questions, a hand outstretched as if to block the crowd of chefs.

“Well…  _ he’s hungry _ .”

  
  
  


Frankly, screw Hyuck. Jun had finally found something he could do, something he almost enjoyed, some way to contribute to the intricate inner workings of the bathhouse, and now he had been uprooted. 

After Hyuck’s interruption, the dynamic in the kitchen shifted. It was a tectonic shift, the order before lost to the chaotic scurrying of the staff, knocking over pots or pans to find any dish they could present to the ‘guest’. Jun had yet to see them. He was currently balancing a large bowl of fruit above a horde of other workers doing just the same, being elbowed periodically, or being kicked in the ankles by the scuttle of feet. He could see nothing through the cacophonous throng of bodies: frogs, spirits, and the like. Jisung was pressed against his neck, perilously trying to dodge all the waving arms about him.

He could hear somewhat through the commotion. In particular, the voice of Yubaba and this ‘guest’ were distinct. The guest had a deep voice, it almost sounded wet, each syllable coming out as a gurgle, punctuated by the showering sound of metal nuggets hitting wood. Yubaba’s voice was much friendlier than when she had addressed him. It was an octave higher than its usual grating tone and seemed to pamper the guest with words, although some desperation was laced between each letter. Just what is going on? Jun would typically ask Min, but after being thrust up the steps with the frogs he lost sight of him.

If only Jun could reach the front, and offer up his fruit, maybe he could discern something of all this. 

He started jostling through the crowd. Jisung made affronted squeaks upon his collarbone and began scratching at his neck but Jun was determined to figure this out. The staff around him all made several annoyed remarks of their own and he struggled against their stockier bodies, especially trying to tote around a heavy fruit bowl. Eventually, he shoved his way to the front.

“None of this is  _ good enough! _ ” Bellowed the guest. Jun finally saw it.

It was immense. A bulbous body poised on strong hind legs that ended in webbed feet. Protruding eyes the colour of lemons bursted from its head, horizontal pupils thinned out enough for the sour yellow to drown the grease black. It was undoubtedly a frog, but so engorged and warped into something nightmarish. Its thin black lips were pulled into grimace.

“Why don’t you bring me something actually edible, huh? Otherwise, I’ll find my own food,” The guest threatened, his words came out wet and dripping with confidence.

“Sir,” Yubaba started, quivering. “That is no way to act, we have our best cooks preparing food for you.” She scanned the room, hastily. “Jun! Offer up your bowl, quick! He’s hungry.”

Jun did as he was ordered and stepped trepidatiously in front of the beast, Jisung hiding behind his neck. Its pupils zeroed on his offering, saliva dripping from his wide mouth. It opened and, quick as lightning, an ebony tongue launched from the cavernous depths and sucked up the fruit. Jun felt the bowl shake with its force. 

The frog chewed for a moment.

Everything seemed to hang on his verdict, the once bustling crowd quieted by his previous threat. Jun peered nervously from under the rim of his, now empty, bowl. He gulped. The frog did not. 

“Disgusting! How  _ dare _ you offer me something such as that!” He spat the fruit out with such strength that it splashed against the walls, joining the rest of the ejected food. It seemed then he took matters into his own hands. Once again, the gaping jaws of it’s cavity tore open, pitch depths engulfing all of Jun’s sight. He knew what was coming. The black tongue poised to strike, he closed his eyes.

The smell of fresh roses and cut grass… then, the floor.

Min had his arms around his middle, grip deathly tight as Jun’s body was pressed against his front. He had been tackled out the way, and they lay in a heap against the wall. He looked towards the beast — its tongue was attached to a member of the kitchen staff instead, not that it seemed to mind. Retracting the slobbering muscle, he dragged the victim into his mouth and swallowed, all in one swift motion.

Everyone screamed.

Jun stared into the mass of moving colours, wide eyed. 

Everything blurred. 

That was going to be him. He felt hands on his shoulders, shaking him and his ears rang. What happened to Jisung?

“I’ve got him! Jun, we have to go!  _ Now! _ ” Jun hadn’t realised he said that out loud. Min was dragging him up now, the muscles in his arm straining as he tried to get him off the floor. The beast sucked up another victim and Jun was on his feet, faster than his brain could comprehend. It was a habit now — running with Min. 

He pushed through sliding door after sliding door, the dining rooms a maze of rice paper and acrylic design until they were by the elevator.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere?” Min was looking over his body for cuts or bruises, hands trailing down his sides; if Jun wasn’t so dazed, he would notice it more.

“Where’s Jisung?” He asked instead. As if on cue, he started whining from within Min’s pocket, a scrambling form could be seen within the fabric. Min gathered him up as gently as possible and placed him into Jun’s waiting palms. “You okay, Sung?” The mouse nodded his head profusely and offered up his usual annoying chirps.

At that moment, Lele and the rest of the boys came racing down the corridor. They were panting and sweating, clearly having been caught in the commotion. Hyuck was haggard at this point — from all the sprinting he had done. 

“Did you see what happened? The guest has gone crazy! He’s eating everyone!” Lele exclaimed.

“We were there,” Min sighed in frustration and ran his fingers through his now garnet locks. “We need to get rid of him… maybe find some way to get him to throw up who he ate…”

Jisung let out a particularly loud screech, drawing everyone’s attention. 

“What is it, Sung?” Jisung locked eyes with Jun. With impressive commandment of his new body, he started gesturing like it was a game of charades. He used his sinewy tail to point to his mouth, acting out eating something, before falling to his back in mimic-death. Jun furrowed his eyebrows for a second, before it struck him.

“Your vitamins! You’re a genius Sung!” Jun pulled his friend's tiny body up to his cheek and nuzzled into him as best he could, he couldn’t give him a hug anymore, but this was the next best thing.

“Vita...mins? What are you on about?” Jen questioned, the words unfamiliar on his tongue. 

“It’s stupid, they’re not actually vitamins so if you take too much of them, you’ll get sick, that should work, right?” 

“That’s great but how are we going to get him to take them, he’s pretty damn busy chomping up everyone in the bathhouse.” Hyuck, ever the optimist, added.

“Oh, I know how to get him to eat them.” Lele stated, a mischievous smile on his lips. “There’s one dish no one can pass on.”

“No way…”

“Lele ramyeon?” Min asked, the ruby in his hair becoming drowned by the cool determination of violet.

“The one and only.”

  
  
  
  


The plan was set into motion. Jun left with Jisung to head back to the rooms and collect the ‘vitamins’ while the rest of them worked in the kitchen making Lele’s infamous ramyeon. He barely managed to navigate the bathhouse; without Min’s guidance he really did feel like a doll in a children’s playhouse, useless without his master to move him. Nonetheless, he was determined to make himself useful, that’s what he promised Jisung. 

The once-boy was on his usual perch atop Jun’s shoulder, his light weight a comforting presence, it grounded him to the floor, preventing him from getting spirited away amongst the wonders (and terrors) of this fantastical place.

He entered the dorms. 

Everything had been tucked away when they awoke, all the futons and blankets shoved into the cupboards. Jun could see clearly outside now, at the world brought alight in the dark. A monsoon had fallen overnight, and tucked away in the kitchens or facing frog-beasts, Jun hadn’t noticed. It was torrential, slapping against the windows with the force akin to a fusillade of bullets. The glass panes rattled. Through the haze of water Jun could see cherry-coloured lights flicker. They pranced like fireflies through the glass, twinkling and phasing through shades of gold. It reminded him of the phasing of Min’s hair, the way the colours danced around his smile.

Min had hidden his possessions in the drawers where all the aprons and spare uniforms were kept. He rummaged through the different clothings, all the colour flying around him as he tossed them aside. Finally, he came across his clothes, the ones he arrived in. He almost forgot what they looked like. The denim of his shorts were muddied with dirt, and his striped yellow-and-white shirt was crumpled. How could he forget? Unravelling the material revealed the small container of pills, they were bright red and smelled strongly of blackcurrant.

“Bet you’re glad your mum made me take these, huh, Sung?” Jisung couldn’t reply the way he used to, with a quip about how much money his mum was wasting. He couldn’t say how much he missed her. Instead, peeps of sound came from his minute body, they were quiet and mournful. “You’ll see her again, I promised you, didn’t I?”

The rain filled Jisung’s silence.

“C’mon, let’s get these to Min.”

The kitchens were barren save for the four boys. Lele was slaving over a steaming pot, yapping out orders to the other three. Jen and Hyuck seemed to be gathering ingredients while Min chopped vegetables masterfully; he passed them to Lele who poured them into his large cauldron.

“I got them,” Jun started, panting from running down all the steps. “What now?” 

“Almost done…” Lele said. Jun peered into the pot.  _ Wow.  _ The broth was bursting with colour and had the most captivating aroma; noodles were bathing the honey-coloured brew, small bubbles of oil giving the liquid texture, along with the chopped vegetables lavishly supplied by Min. Jun understands why it’s so famous, and he hasn’t even tried any yet. 

“Pass.” Lele held out his hand to Jun, flitting his fingers in an order - he handed over the pills.

Lele dumped them all in the pot.

Next, Hyuck appeared with a large and ornate bowl, embroidered with green and red flowers on the porcelain. With the assistance of Min, Lele heaved the pot off the stove and poured the delicious concoction into the bowl, the liquid sloshing over the edges with its severe amount. He added some final touches for presentation, everyone watching anxiously, before deeming it fit to serve. 

_ Showtime _ .

Back on the upper floors things seemed to have calmed down a bit. A smaller crowd was gathered around one of the private dining rooms, the doors pulled shut. They were whispering amongst themselves and no longer bearing gifts of food, a lot of it was splattered over the walls, cracked porcelain littered the floor. From behind the closed doors, Jun could hear the guest and Yubaba’s voice, as well as the sound of smashing glass.

Atop his shoulder lay the large bowl of ‘Lele Ramyeon’, Hyuck toting the other side, Jisung hiding behind his neck. Jun started to doubt himself. What if the pills didn’t work? What if they didn’t have enough? If he was eaten, what would happen to Jisung? Standing before the doors, all eyes on him, Jun felt all too small and weak. It was the same feeling upon his arrival. He just wanted to do well, to have helped.

The doors opened their jaws.

“Jun! Hyuck! What is it you’ve brought?” Yubaba greeted them.

“A dish for our wonderful guest, of course.” The sarcasm fell flat from the wobble in his voice. 

“Perfect! I was just negotiating with him.” Yubaba turned her attention back to the frog and clapped her hands. “Now, I am offering you a wonderful deal here, sir. One valuable gold seal, enchanted for luck, of course, and our own very famous ramyeon! After finishing this course, you take your payment and return to wherever you came from. Agreed?”

The frog seemed even more distorted than when Jun saw him last. His menacing mouth was tilted into a snarl, the pupils of his beady eyes narrowed into a thin line, his entire body poised to strike. Yubaba seemed to quiver ever so slightly as she held the golden seal between her fingers. It was a small thing, almost just a bar of gold, but it glinted mystically in the light and was engraved with strange symbols. Was gold this valuable? The beast approached, a wet slap sounding with his footsteps.

“I appreciate the offer…” He sneered. “But I respectfully decline.”

That wicked tongue launched from his devouring smile and snatched up the golden seal, swallowing it whole. Yubaba screeched and retreated to the corner of the room.

“Disgusting beast! That was my only seal!” She glanced at Hyuck and Jun. “Well,  _ do something! _ ”

The boys made eye contact with each other, sharing a brief moment of determination. Hyuck took in a deep breath.

“ _ Hey! _ You! Yeah, with the fat face! Over here! Don’t you want your main course?” Making use of his sharp tongue, Hyuck drew his attention. The wet mass loomed over them, but his eyes were not focused on the food; it was zeroed on Jun, poised underneath the porcelain rim of his offering. He saw the slits that made its pupils, and he saw his reflection in the drowning yellow of its irises. He felt Jisung, pawing at his neck.

Almost in slow motion, reflexively, Jun pulled a maneuver that he felt he would have seen in action movies.

The coal-coloured tongue sprung from the monster’s slobbering lips, launched directly towards him. Mustering all the strength he had, Jun crouched and held the bowl in front of him like a shield. The tongue smacked against the bowl, shaking it, the muscle plunged directly in the deadly broth. Hyuck cheered from somewhere within the room. The beast recalled his tongue and seemed to spend a moment tasting it, before its grotesque face scrunched up in disgust. Its expression then morphed through a few other emotions, finally landing on nausea.

Jun decided not to watch the next bit, but he garnered from the retching noises it wasn’t pleasant. Hyuck was still cheering when Yubaba spoke up.

“What did you give him?”

Opening one eye in time to see one of the kitchen frogs come tumbling out of the monster’s mouth, Jun gasped. It really had worked. He let the momentary joy show in his features, beaming at Hyuck while their tormentor started ejecting his mass before a growl drew his attention.

“ _ You! _ ” Bearing down on him the detestable frog pounced.

Primed with adrenaline Jun performed another movie stunt and rolled out of the way, the hardwood floor rattling his knees and Jisung falling from his shoulder. Hyuck was no longer smiling. Sparing a glance behind him (black splatters against the wall, pinpoint pupils, eyes of lemon), Jun broke into a sprint.

He hardly paid attention to where he was going, taking any turning that was  _ away _ . The maze of the bathhouse was no less navigable than before but the thundering splats of webbed feet behind him served as a motivator. His bare heels burned from the way he was spinning on them but he was unstoppable. Until a shout.

“Jun! This way!” Leaning over the banister on the floor above was Jen, running in tandem with them. Jun didn’t have the mind to argue, he followed the blaze of fuschia from Jen’s uniform through the bathhouse, eventually passing a corridor to his left.

_ Crash!  _

Tumbling boxes and baskets of clothes toppled behind him, a devilish shout coming from his pursuer. Craning his head backwards he saw the creature struggle over the obstacle, black molton mass being pulled from his body like sludge as it caught on the objects. Yet the frog was unrelenting in his chase. He returned to his running.

If he had looked a moment longer, Jun might have spotted Hyuck pocket something gold and glittering.

On the other side of the building Jun spotted Lele sprinting with a cleaning cart. A plan fabricated in his mind. He started with a clear direction towards the front of the bathhouse and the balcony that led outside. Lele locked eyes with him. His chest burned. Converging in front of the balcony entrance, Lele thrust the cart into the beast with a shout. Items ricocheted off their collision. Jun didn’t stop. He ran out onto the balcony, seeing the deathly drop below and the fierce rains. A leap of faith. 

In one swift motion he jumped onto the railing, made eye contact with the now sickly greed spirit, and stepped off the ledge.

Fueled by his rage the spirit charged after him, hurtling over the drop as black sludge trailed behind him. He splattered into the waters below.

Lele collected himself after exerting so much energy and jogged onto the balcony. Where was Jun?

“ _ Jun! _ ” Had he jumped? Dread settled into the pit of his stomach.

“Um, a little help please?” A small voice came from over the ledge. Lele leaned over and let out a sigh of relief. Jun was hanging off the edge of the jutting platform, drenched in whatever had oozed out of the spirit. He was smiling. 

  
  
  
  


Yubaba had deemed Jun’s bravery worth celebration and announced sake for everyone. The boys were exempt from cleanup duties due to their contribution and after everyone had wound down for the night, they gathered over the dorm’s terrace to watch the sunrise before sleeping. The scene that stretched before them was serene and otherworldly. What was once rolling meadows became flooded by the previous rains making the night now as calm as the waters, where they dipped over the horizon like a mirror for the heavens.

Jun watched Jisung squirm about in Lele’s lap, they had become attached to each other quite quickly. Hyuck and Jen were still retelling Jun’s acts of bravery to each other while vastly over-exaggerating their role in it - throwing some explosions in there for good measure. Just how young were these boys? Jun almost felt they were familiar, as though he had seen them before.

“You okay, Jun?” Min pulled him back into reality, grounding him with gentle fingers on his shoulder and a voice like flower nectar.

“Mhm,” Jun started. “Tired, I think.”

“No wonder. It  _ was _ really impressive, what you did today.” 

“It doesn’t feel real.”  _ None of this does. _

Min quieted down then, just sipped on his Sake and looked out across the horizon, his jaw soft and hair pink. Jun tried not to dwell on the colour too much. 

If you had told Jun a day ago that he would have saved a bathouse from a spirit of greed, he would have thought you were crazy. However, underneath the general haze that followed him, there grew a glimmer of pride and hope. He’s reminded of Jisung’s action figure toys, and the brave acts they’d perform at his friend’s behest, he’s not so different from them anymore. They were piled in his suitcase at home, ready to be put in the car.

_ Home _ . It seemed a faraway thought; somehow more impossible than frogs that talk and a boy with hair that changes colour.

“Home? You wanna go back?” Lele interjected. Jun hadn’t realised he’d said anything.

“Yeah, I’m working out some way to turn Jisung back, and then we’re going to leave.”

All the boys stared at him with a wistful look on their faces.  _ So familiar _ . Hyuck pulled something out of his pocket and handed it to Jun. It was a photo, incredibly old and black-and-white, of a soft-featured boy with glasses. The corners of the photo were worn and starting to tear, as though it had been held many times, yet it wasn’t folded, indicating Hyuck wanted to maintain its quality for as long as possible.

“Mark,” He said. “That’s his name. For the life of me I can’t remember mine but I can remember his. He’s probably out there... somewhere.” Jun handed the photo back with a sympathetic look. These boys were just like him, spirited away somewhere they didn’t belong. The glimmer of hope in him dwindled.

“So if you’re looking to turn Jisung back I wouldn’t count on Yubaba.” Hyuck scoffed, downing another shot of Sake. Jisung whined from upon Lele’s lap, the boy bundling him up in apology for Hyuck’s harsh words.

“Her sister might.” They all turned to look at Min. “Lele, you still have those tickets right?” Like a tennis match, their heads whipped again towards Lele. He seemed abashed.

“I… do.”

“If you’re going to use them on anything I’d say this is it, Lele.”

“He’s right,” Jen added, “This is your chance, Lele.” 

“Tickets for the train down there?” Jun asked, motioning to the flooded tracks below.

“Yeah… I’ve had them for a while but haven’t found an excuse to use them. I’ve got five of them.”

“Perfect! That’s one for you, Jun, Jen, Hyuck, and Jisung.” Min exclaimed, leaping to his feet, yellow locks dawning on the crown of his head.

“What about you, Min?” Jen asked.

“I have some business with Yubaba, so I’ll stay behind.”

It couldn’t be that easy could it? Hop on a train to another witch’s house and undo the spell, just like that? At that moment, the train emerged from the tunnel under the bathhouse, it’s yellow light a beacon across the navy waters. The sea rippled, a wave growing in size and dissipating until it became still and glassy again. The train dipped beyond the horizon.

“Let’s do it.” Jun said. 

  
  
  


At midday, the motley crew went into motion. None of them slept, waiting until light snores drifted through the halls and daylight bled under the curtains and through the windows. The ocean remained, heavenly in sunlight, a bright turquoise undulating under a summer breeze. The same breeze carried the thick clouds along the sky, white lace and stuffed with cotton, it was almost as if you dived into their reflections on the water you would be able to feel their tenderness. 

Jun quickly changed into the clothes he arrived in: denim shorts feeling unfamiliar against his skin compared to his work uniform. Lele took charge of Jisung and let him sit atop his head, looking like a bird in the thistled nest of his hair. Min wasn’t in his bed. Jun didn’t get to say goodbye - he just hoped that he’d see him again soon.

They raced down corridors unfamiliar to Jun, through a boiler room where a man with as many arms as a spider slept, sprawled out, until they reached the last step. The water lapped lazily at the stone, clear enough to see through it to the seafloor, where grasses waved with each caress of the tide. He took a deep breath… and plunged.

They waded through the knee-deep waters (with many complaints from Hyuck) to the train station. Surprisingly, fish darted along the tracks and in between their legs, playful as children. Jen watched with youthful wonder in his eyes, glowing. The station was nothing more than an island now, a stone slab raised above the surf. After toeing back on his socks and shoes, Lele drew his attention.

“This is a one way trip, mind. We just have to hope the long walk back is worth it.” He looked into the distance, a faraway yet determined look in his expression, his jaw set.

“I have to try.”

The train came rolling into the stop. The foreman a spectral being, much taller than the young boys before him. He counted their tickets and let them aboard. This was it.

Jun watched the world slip by. How endless it was. No amount of imagination could conjure the miles of scenery that dipped in and out of the horizon. Islands rose from the ocean, a solitary house and tree, an island bearing a small village. Passengers got on and off, seemingly going nowhere and everywhere at once. The day faded into twilight. Twinkling star lights of towns flitted on the water, neon signs illuminating cities that didn’t exist. Jun’s reflection in the glass setting him against that backdrop, a part of the world and yet enclosed within the shivering walls of the train as it hurtled into the unknown.

He thought of his goodbye cards and the school in Seoul. It suddenly seemed so small. A mouse in a world of endless seas, bathhouses for Gods, and missing children made to serve them.

He retrieved Jisung from a sleeping Lele’s lap and cradled him in his palm. He was curled into a ball, a minute body just breathing. To Jisung, the world will never be bigger than it is now, and he has faith that come time, he will conquer it.

  
  
  
  


Meanwhile, Yubaba counted her money. Small heaps of gold were laid on her desk, all taken from the greed spirit; she examined each piece in a microscope and then moved it from one pile to the next gleefully. Suddenly, the doors burst open.

“ _ Yubaba! _ ”

It was Min, hair blazing streaks of violet and an expression of determination. Yubaba paled, then regained her composure.

“How dare you come marching into my office like this,” She drawled.

“I have business with you.”

“And what might that be?” Min marched straight up to her desk, clearly done with her games. Slowly, his hair started to darken at the roots, jet black sucking in any compassion in his countenance.

“I want to make a deal for Jun and Jisung’s freedom.”

Yubaba grinned.

“As I expected. You’ve gone too soft, Min.”

“Not at all, I’ve just been redirected.” All black. Fierce.

“Why would I let Jun go?” She seemed to think she had the winning hand, pointed nails tapping rhythmically on the table, her expanding grin predatory as she looked up at Min. He was glaring right down at her, the natural colour in his hair making him indistinct from the usual brightness in his appearance. Then, with a casual turn of his head to look out the window, all the gold on the table melted into sludge.

“I wonder where the gold seal you offered to the greed spirit is?”

Yubaba looked down at the mud coating her table in horror. It was impossible, she had inspected each piece herself and yet-

“ _ You! _ ” Min turned back to her.

“It seems you need that seal pretty desperately, now,” He said. “I’d be willing to tell you where it is, for a deal.”

  
  
  
  


Jun’s stop came, the three boys and himself being the only passengers left on board. He woke them up, all asleep and leaning on each other's shoulders, blearily blinking awake at his touch. He bowed to the foreman and stepped down into a swamp. This must be the  _ unknown _ .

“So this is Zeniba’s place, then,” Jen said, stifling a yawn.

A sound drew their attention. Down a dark path a small glimmering light could be seen, and the sound of squeaking. Jisung was quiet. The light only grew closer, swaying as though it were walking. Until it stopped right in front of them, a metal lamp, with a foot at its base and a bright flame behind its glass. The boys shared looks. It seemed to be beckoning them down the path it arrived from with the bow of its frame. Jun shrugged and started walking.

Willow trees descended their boughs into the bog, the draped branches making them look like large, shaggy spiders. Jisung fidgeted on his scalp, uncomfortable in the darkness of the swamp; the boys behind Jun seemed to echo his fears, bunched together they watched the shadows fearfully. The lamp continued on, hopping paces ahead with the creak from its swaying lantern grating on Jun’s ears, then stopped to let them catch up. What kind of person would live in a place like this? If Yubaba had set the standard for terrifying witches, maybe Zeniba would’ve broken it. 

Eventually the path gave way to lights. A warm honey coloured glow poured from the windows and illuminated the neat rows of plants growing in the front garden. The cottage itself was small and unassuming, a simple thatch hut, but immediately, Jun was put on ease - he couldn’t explain why. Like it was home, the lamp jumped right up to the front door, and leaped up to hook itself atop it, its spine bending magically and turning into a small ring. The door then opened up and a stout body stepped out.

“Come on in! I’ve been expecting you, and hurry up, I don’t want to let all the warm air out.”

Zeniba looked just like her sister. She had the same signature nose and features —same clothes even— her white hair tied up into a tidy bun. However, just like the feeling Jun had upon seeing the cottage he had the same towards her. Instead of the tight-lipped sneer of Yubaba, Zeniba held a genuine smile in her expression, while her eyes were bright with kindness and wisdom. 

“How… how did you know we were coming?” Hyuck asked, japanese sounding funny on his tongue.

“Oh, darling, I’ve known you’d end up here for a long time.” It was hard to ignore the certainty in her voice and Jun couldn’t find it in himself to disagree. It seemed apt, inexplicably, that they would all be here at this moment in time.

The cottage was as humble as its outsides. 

While Zeniba started pottering about pouring them the tea she prepared earlier (she really must have known), he made himself comfortable. A wooden dining table took up most of the space, whilst against one wall a traditional kitchen lay. Shelves of wool and spices, pans hanging above the stove; it reminded him of the kitchen back at their holiday home, where Jisung’s mother would cook. Jisung himself settled down too, he crawled off Jun’s head and onto the table, little nose snuffling.

Some teacups floated from the kitchen and landed in front of all the boys, even a small one for Jisung who immediately stuck his snout into it. Zeniba then settled at the table herself and encouraged them all to drink. Jun hesitated, it was now or never.

“Miss Zeniba, ma’am—”

“Oh please! Call me Granny.”

“Oh! Uh- Granny, I have something to ask you.”

“I know, dear, and I’m sorry but I can’t help you.”

All the hope fell out of Jun’s shoulders in a slump. The rest of his friends also looked defeated as they stared into their teacups. Jun felt like crying again, pathetically, he had come so far, and was so sure that this would be it. Jisung came and rubbed against his hands that were gathered on the table. Even now, knowing that his chance at becoming himself again was dashed, he was comforting Jun.

“Oh, my dears, please don’t look so miserable - it’s not over yet.” They all perked up immediately - Hyuck’s head whipping up, making his hair fly across his face.

“Yes, only Yubaba can undo the spell on poor Jisung, but that doesn’t mean you should give up.” 

“How can we not? There’s no way she’ll turn him back,” Lele sulked.

“Don’t lose faith, young one,” She spoke softly. Jun tried not to, but the glimmer of hope in his chest was tired from shining so brightly in the darkness, he wasn’t sure he could keep it alight.

“Well, we can’t have your trip here be for nothing. Jen, you look very capable, help me get some thread will you?”

Jun wasn’t allowed time to feel sorry for himself. Zeniba set him straight to work making something out of silver thread, tying pieces together and watching as the material glinted between his fingers. The rest of the boys were roped into the work too, running about getting tools and materials at Zeniba’s behest, working on their own threads as well. He watched them: The way Lele bit his lip when he was concentrating hard, his expressions steeling into something truly determined and fierce, only to dissolve into glee when watching Jisung get tangled up in the thread and fall over. 

Hyuck would always peer over at the others, observe Lele’s small hands work and turn back to his own creation, the thread getting caught on his nails and snapping, the apologetic look he gave Zeniba when she handed him new material, only to return to his own renewed. However, he would always make Lele laugh while they worked, and talk to Jisung, too, even though he only ever got loud chirping back (which made him tip his head back and laugh). 

Jen chatted with Zeniba the whole time, not needing full concentration to his thread, seeming capable and much older than his years, familiar scrunched eyes and wide smile as she told jokes that would only be funny to pensioners but he giggled nonetheless.

Jun smiled to himself, tying off the final thread on his bracelet, not realising what it was until he'd finished it, the shining silver band fitting perfectly round his wrist. The others looked down in wonder at their own bracelets, all identical, as they slipped them over their hands. 

“These should help you greatly,” Zeniba assured them, a knowing glint in her warm irises like hot chocolate. She pulled out another three from her pockets, like they had always been there. 

“For you, little one,” She said, tying the band around Jisung’s fluffy body, who squealed in joy. “And one for your boy.” She handed the other to Hyuck, a look of confusion on his face.

“The one you carry in your pocket, dear.” Hyuck turned beet red at this and shoved the bracelet in his pocket harshly. Jun was confused, how would Hyuck get it to Mark? Zeniba hobbled over to him now, and placed the third in his palm.

“You know who this is for.” She winked at him, and it was his turn to blush.

They had to leave her then, and Jun was faced with reality, and the long walk back through the tracks. She gave each of the boys a crushing hug, Hyuck’s eyes welling up —although he wouldn’t admit it— , Jen embracing her like it wasn’t his first time. Jun tucked his face over her neck and tried to hold back the upwelling of tears. He felt like Jisung, back home, just before they were spirited away to this fantastical place, thick tears sliding down his cheeks as he was faced with crushing reality. He was so sure that everything would be okay, that he’d kept his promise to Jisung.

“Oh,  _ Jun _ ,” Jen sighed, sounding far away. Three more pairs of arms embraced him as he cried down Zeniba’s dress. The glittering sterling of their bracelets drew his eyes, Jisung’s snuffling drawing his ears.

“We’ll figure it out,  _ together _ .”

He was released from their warm grasp and looked around at them all, Zeniba included, the way their eyes showed fondness and the determination he had lost.  _ Familiar, familiar… _ Jisung skipped down to his palm, and he held him up to his face, he seemed to share their looks. Jun had to keep going, if not for himself, then for Jisung.

The way back meant crossing the sea, still. Nighttime had fallen and stars shimmered gold in the pitch water; their feet disappeared into the ink, slicing them in halves as they trekked towards uncertainty, beaten but not defeated. Jisung, impossibly, fell asleep on him, the rhythmic cadence of his shoulder lulling him like a child in the pram. 

The train passed them sometimes, forcing itself through the water and causing a wave to rise, as though it were a ghost disturbed from the dead and swallowing them in retribution. Hyuck grumbled about his drenched clothes. Jun just glowered down the horizon, daring the batthouse to rear its head and deny him the right to return home, the right to give Jisung back his childhood and his path into adulthood. The school waiting for him in Seoul, the paintings he had yet to create, the friends he had yet to make.

Legs burning, and bags under their eyes, the sky dawned into a new day, a teal sky rejuvenating their spirits, as they collapsed onto the grasses near the bathhouse. The flower garden waved its boughs in greeting, a chrysalis of colour, dancing from one shade to another.

  
  
  
  


Min worried his nails between his teeth. It was taking them hours, he couldn’t help but worry something had happened to them on the train ride, or on the way back. He should have met them halfway, or brought them a boat for the trip back. His hair was blood red and painted a warning.

“ _ Min! _ ” As though he hadn’t just been on the longest walk of his life, Lele came jogging over the bridge, his work uniform half drenched and crumpled at the bottom. Yubaba grinned from behind him. The rest of the boys walked over, much less enthused than Lele and wearing the look of their journey. Jun, though, looked positively enraged. Seeing Yubaba, he strode over to her and shoved his finger in her face.

“Turn Jisung back,  _ now! _ ” The rest of the bathhouse (that had gathered to watch the spectacle) all fell back a few paces but Yubaba’s confidence outshone her fear at the wrath of the small boy. She seemed to snarl at him, a snake coiling to pounce. 

“Now, now, I will turn Jisung back  _ with pleasure _ ,” She started. “If you answer this simple little question for me.” Jun set his jaw and retracted his hand, where he knelt down and let Jisung use it to skip onto the bridge.

“What.”

Yuababa’s smile stretched even further, swallowing any expression other than insufferable triumph. Min gathered the rest of the boys around him and glowered at her, locks of crow on his head.

“Tell me…” her words sapped joy from the air, “what their names are.”

Gesturing over to the gaggle of Jun’s wearied friends, he gulped. _ Familiar, they looked familiar.  _ But where? When? He wracked his brain empty, picked it up and turned it inside out looking for the answer to the question. How could he know their names? He must. For Jisung and his future. For them, for Mark… for Jaemin.

_ Jaemin _ . A vision of tattered paper on corner-shop walls and faded sangria ink. 

“Oh!”

A beat.

“Oh.”

Another. Jun raised his hand and pointed to Jen.

“Lee Jeno, missing 2005.”

He moved it to Lele.

“Zhong Chenle, missing 2002.”

Hyuck.

“Lee Donghyuck, missing 1996. I think… Mark has been waiting a long time.” The bathhouse seemed to sigh in relief. Then erupt into cheer. Chefs hats were thrown into the air, Jeno jumped up and squeezed Chenle half to death as he just stared at nothing in relieved shock. Donghyuck fished the picture of Mark and the bracelet from his pocket and clutched it close to his heart. Jaemin smiled at him with rose in his hair and tenderness in his eyes. Jun gazed into him, saw the rose in his heart, too: the way it bloomed for him, from the moment their fingers touched. Chenle broke the moment by yelling something and pointed behind him, wonderment gracing his expression.

Jun spun around.

Jisung stood there, the tender breeze kissing his black hairs and making them sway in a sky-waltz for swallows; dancing around his youthful face, eyes, nose, lips. The sun framing him in the aurora, an angelic halo crowning his head and pulling the shadows from his features. He looked down at Jun, long-limbed and still growing into his bones - what would have annoyed Jun now felt more like home than their cottage beyond the forest, or back abroad, with childish reverence and adoration. Silver bracelet dangling from his wrist. Parting his lips for the first time in days, fully whole, and able to speak, he said:

“Hey, Renjun.”

“ _ You idiot, Park Jisung _ .”

Tears slipped from his lashes as Renjun surged forward and pulled Jisung down in a tight embrace. He returned it, the roles reversed as Renjun sniffled into his shirt and Jisung held him with a strength he had come into, after so long. Melodies of praise and reassurance were woven into Jisung’s young voice, much deeper and older than Renjun remembered it. He pulled away and took in the face he almost forgot.

“You never told me he was tall!” Chenle shouted, shrill voice breaking the moment with welcome joy.

Jisung yelled, “Lele!” and sprinted over, picking him up and squeezing him like greeting an old friend. Renjun looked at them and realised how Jisung wasn’t alone,  _ not anymore _ — with Jeno’s puppy-like grin radiating on them and Donghyuck’s boyish laughter singing a song.

Jaemin approached Renjun and took his hand, their delicate ritual, fingers embracing each other like lovers, the confluence of all the times they had touched before, only meaning more. Renjun’s heart aching. 

“Let’s go, Renjun.”

Like the first time, the six of them raced down the streets, cheers from the bathhouse thundering in tune with their footsteps on the cobble. Jaemin’s hand in his, Chenle’s in Jisung’s, Donghyuck clutching Mark’s portrait like a wish, stopping at the grasses beyond the threshold and the frog statue spewing spring water - a reminder of Renjun’s adventures. They all went forward. All but Renjun, stopped by the gentle tug of Jaemin’s hand.

“Aren’t you coming too?” Jaemin’s hair is still peach and he searched Renjun’s face with some air of melancholy.

“I can’t come with you,” He said.

“Why not?”

“I’m not human like the rest of you but Renjun, without you I— I’m really grateful.” His words came out so unsure and raw, like the primary colours his hair mimics. 

“Without  _ you _ I wouldn’t have remembered my name. I wouldn’t be  _ free _ .”

“Will I ever see you again?” Renjun pulled his hands up to his chest, and pleaded with his eyes.

“Have you not figured it out yet?” The mischief Jaemin was notorious for was back, the playful lilt in his voice and the feeling he knew more than his exterior would tell.

“I suppose I’ll have to surprise you, then.”

Renjun almost didn’t react. A blur of fuschia and a feeling. Jaemin’s lips were gentle against his own, soft plush, pressing into him with a delicacy he had never experienced, treating Renjun like fine china. Jaemin’s palms crowning his face and jaw, fingers caressing his skin and feeling the divots in the brushstrokes of his being. Renjun felt a warmth bloom between his ribs, flower buds sprouting from his chest and unfurling as he reached his hands up Jaemin’s back, trying to tangle their roots together. He pressed back, a fleeting, tender thing, seconds among an ocean of infinities. Jaemin pulled away, placed his forehead against Renjun’s and steeled himself for his going.

“We’ll meet again. I promise you.” He whispered, intimate, a prayer. 

Renjun tore himself from the other, hands grasping each other like a fraying thread.

“Don’t look back, Renjun, whatever you do.”

The other boys were still careening down the path, rejoicing in freedom. Renjun jogged down the hill, joining a waiting Jisung, Chenle in tow, with a huge grin in his cheeks. Renjun smiled at them, a forlorn sadness in his eyes that they didn’t quite notice, but a strong-set determination in his jaw.

The darkness in the archway engulfed them and Renjun  _ never _ looked back.

  
  
  
  


The easel digs uncomfortably in his shoulder but so enraptured by the beauty surrounding him, he pays it no mind. The amalgam of bursting colour undulates like a soft-blown sea around his feet, framing him in the artful strokes of Van Gogh — all the shades of lemon, cantaloupe, apple, blush, mulberry, lapis,  _ everything _ .

Renjun finds his usual bench, setting down his load of paints, brushes, sponges, and the wooden easel. The spring weather brings fresh scents of renewal and a surge of sunlight, paired with a breeze like a kiss. He sees him then, making the trek across the flowered fields, petals flying away with every step, almost purposefully, to display the humble brilliance he walks with. Renjun fumbles for his easel, setting it up in the foreground, placing the canvas, an empty picture frame for the image to be captured on it. His fingers dance with the wind as he paints, the brush gliding across his canvas, paints desperately trying to emulate the kaleidoscope of nature behind it. 

Eventually, a painting emerges; of a boy with pink hair, framed against the Na Insitute for Art and on his wrist, a small silver bracelet.

  
  
  
  
  



End file.
